lack any possible application to the Creator. In the order of understanding, it looks as if the categories answering to the transcendentals are generated ‘bottom-up,’ but, in the order of Being, they obtain ‘top-down.’ The trick is to explain how it is that the oppositional use of the relevant categories applies in a way that argues the continuum of being linking Creator and Creation, in spite of the fact that their transcendental use necessarily lacks the oppositional structure inhering in their

equivalently, the pleasure of beauty is internally sensible. The equivalence of these two ways of putting Hutcheson’s conclusion may be puzzling. The thesis that the pleasure of beauty is internally sensible, where Hutcheson’s ‘internally sensible’ means something like our ‘aesthetic,’ may strike us as uninformative. But this is merely an artifact of the ultimate success of Hutcheson’s project in fashioning a new category to house the pleasure of beauty. The equivalent thesis that the pleasure of

apprehension of significant form. It is impossible here to review all the different proposals – in terms of notions like aesthetic emotion and aesthetic experience – that formalists have attempted to craft in order to characterize the putative mental state that significant form is alleged to afford. To date, none of these has been anything less than controversial. Thus, at this point in time, the burden of proof falls to the formalist, since on the face of it it appears unlikely that there is a

and not the reverse. Thus if there is, as Heidegger puts it, a “bringing forth” involved in the activity of the artist, this cannot be, just like that, the same as the “bringing forth” of a piece of equipment, the making of a thing. Heidegger attempts to bring this into focus with a vivid comparison, a comparison which again suggests a strange parallel between the work of art and Dasein, this time on the topic of death. In Being and Time, Heidegger drew the distinction between Dasein and entities

by shooting capitalists or destroying a social system, a disease which has so eaten into civilization that political remedies are about as useful as poulticing a cancer. (Collingwood 1938: 335) In “The Waste Land” Eliot shows “what poetry can be,” for “the artist must prophesy not in the sense that he foretells things to come, but in the sense that he tells his audience, at risk of their displeasure, the secrets of their own hearts”(ibid.: 336). What is important here is not the justice of